The Willows
by plansandsilhouettes
Summary: A fluffy R/Hr fanfic, with appearances from Rose and Hugo and the extended family. A story about the couple's life in the house they buy shortly before Rose's birth, and continue to live in until the very end, full of cute family moments.
1. Chapter 1

Hermione had woken up early on Saturday, as she had been for the past four months. Saturday was the day that 'Wizarding Properties' would be delivered to their flat in London by Owl Post, at precisely 8 o'clock. She opened the window, took the magazine from the tawny owl carrying it, and gave him an Owl Treat, then sat down in one of the comfortable chairs, pen in hand, and began to peruse the advertisements. Ten minutes or so later she called out:

'Ron, Ron! Come and look at this one, I've found it!' Ron could almost hear the smile in her voice, but still pulled on his dressing gown a little roughly, and replied grumpily:

'I'm coming, darling,' before swearing under his breath as he stepped on the now aged Crookshanks, who had been hiding under the bed, on his way to the bathroom. Ron was becoming accustomed to his pregnant wife's behaviour when it came to houses. She wanted their house to be perfect, and every week or so she would find another in that bloody magazine and proclaim it to be so. Then, they would visit it and Hermione would find a million things wrong with it. 'At this rate, our baby,' Ron felt a flurry of excitement and pride rush through him, 'will come before we move and have to have its cot in the bathroom.' The couple's flat was tiny, but suited to what they had wanted three years ago – somewhere cosy and cheap, close to the Ministry. They had saved up carefully, and were both earning good money, as well as royalties from articles – which Hermione wrote – and public functions they attended, interviews and speeches they gave to journalists, historians, radio programs and schoolchildren. Finally, they had enough money to consider buying a house in the country. 'Please let this one be the one,' thought Ron, thinking through all this as he washed his face. 'I'm starting to go insane, Crooky,' he said to the cat, to whom he had become quite affectionate. Crookshanks looked up at Ron, blinking slowly and lazy, half glaring at him as if he knew what was about to happen:

'Ron!' called Hermione, crossly.

'Yes, coming,' Ron ran out into the living room, nearly tripping over Commodore, the younger cat they had bought to keep Crookshanks company, whom Ron swore must have been the elder cat's son.

'Look at this! It's absolutely faultless!' exclaimed Hermione, pointing to a picture of a small cottage.

'Love, it looks wonderful but, isn't it sort of, small?' asked Ron cautiously.

'No, that's the really clever bit – 'An Undetectable Extension Charm has been placed on this beautiful English cottage, so you can have all the space and modernity of a new house, inside a delightfully old exterior: the best of both worlds!'

'Well, that certainly is impressive,' said Ron, struggling not to laugh at the cheesy tone of the article. 'What else makes you think this is the right one?'

Hermione rolled her eyes:

'Just read it, Ron!' she pushed the magazine into his hands before getting up. 'Cup of tea, sweetheart?' She kissed him on the cheek, now pushing him into the chair.

'Urm, alright then, yeah,' said Ron, before beginning to read:

The Willows – Idyllic Wizarding Homes

An Undetectable Extension Charm has been placed on this beautiful English cottage, so you can have all the space and modernity of a new house, inside a delightfully old exterior: the best of both worlds!

What appears to be a small, two bedroomed cottage actually houses five double bedrooms, three of which have ensuites, a fourth bathroom and downstairs lavatory, a sizeable kitchen with utility (Adapted Muggle machines such as 'washing machines' and 'tumbled-ryers will be installed upon request), two reception rooms, a family room, study and small library. Also, there is a conservatory, a large shed and a greenhouse, within the large, well-kept garden filled with magical plants, and the three willow trees.

All of this is situated in the wizarding village of Little Nympsfield, the second all wizarding village in England – no need to worry about inquisitive neighbours pondering how so many fit in such a small house, or what those unusual plants are!

A wizarding home, perfect for a growing family.

Hermione levitated Ron's tea to him, carrying her own as she did so. Her face was bright and inquisitive.

'Well?' she questioned, eagerly.

'It certainly sounds lovely –'

'Doesn't it? A library! Can you imagine? Isn't the garden gorgeous?' she pointed to the images in the magazine, which showed flowers moving in the wind while butterflies landed delicately on them. 'I really think we should take a look at it. It's perfect, don't you think Ron?'

'Yes, Hermione, but that only means that people will be extremely interested.' He was trying to prepare Hermione for disappointment if the house had already been sold. She looked crestfallen, but only fleetingly.

'Let's go then! We should get in there quick.' She winked and headed off to the bathroom. 'Blimey,' thought Ron, 'Pregnancy is really making her cheerful.'

Hermione, who was five months pregnant, was luckily still allowed to apparate. Ron and her had dressed, and rushed out, arriving at the 'Idyllic Wizarding Homes' estate agency at 9 o'clock. They had previously been shown four houses by the agency, none of which Hermione had approved of. They walked in, and a voice, seemingly from thin air, said:

'Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley! How nice to see you again, I take it you have still not found your ideal abode?' Ron and Hermione looked up. The agency had knocked the floors separating the original three stories, leading to an extremely high ceiling. This, coupled with the shelving which went all the way up to the roof, filled with files, house profiles, contracts, tax records and other important documents, made for an impressive office space which contrasted with the small desk in the corner of it.

'No, Marcus, we haven't,' sighed Ron.

'Oh, Ron,' exasperated Hermione, 'we think this might be the one, could you get down here Marcus?'

'Momentarily!' called the voice, before a large armchair floated gracefully down, rotating lazily to face Hermione. On it was the estate agent, Marcus, a thin, very bookish sort of wizard, with a charming smile and witty intelligence.

'The one, Mrs. Weasely? Is that so?' he smiled.

'Apparently,' smirked Ron.

'Both of you know the others just weren't right, I mean the one you showed us in Ardenfield, Marcus, it was just tiny, and Ron, don't get me started on the one you found in Piggleby –' Hermione was maddened and slightly annoyed.

'Mrs. Weasley. Allow me to interject before you get far too agitated for someone in your condition. Which property do you wish to view.'

'The Willows, please,' replied Ron, who put his arm round his wife's waist. She rested her head on his shoulder, with her hand on her now perceptible bump.

'Aha, that one is quite the gem. Well, you will be pleased to know you are the first clients to see it – its first advertisement was only distributed an hour ago.'

'Oh, excellent,' blushed Hermione. Marcus winked at Ron, stating calmly 'The early bird gets the worm.' He then turned to the cluttered desk in the corner of the gigantic room.

'Here are the plans,' he said, floating back to Ron. 'And here is the exact address, so you may apparate. Off you go.' He turned away, and began casting spells to secure the agency while he was showing the house, hearing only a small 'pop' from behind him as the couple disapparated.


	2. Chapter 2

Later that day, Ron went to visit George in Diagon Alley, and have a drink at the Leaky Cauldron. Hermione, however, returned home, too tired to socialise or walk any more. She decided to take note of the days events, as she often did, in her diary: a simple, leather-bound book, a Christmas gift from Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Weasley.

_Saturday, 8__th__ September 2005_

_11 Days Until My 26__th__ Birthday_

_4 months until due date_

_It's over, finally. We have found a house – I should say, we have bought a house. Everything was sorted today! Mum and dad won't be able to believe it, buying a house in the Muggle world takes weeks, though I suppose it helps that Ron and I don't require a mortgage. We will be moving in three days from now, and we plan to go shopping for furniture tomorrow – the nursery, of course, is the main priority, followed by at least one other room for guests, the dining room and living rooms. I'm so excited – it's perfect. I might even take up gardening when we move there – the garden is beautiful. I'm sure Neville will be extremely excited to see the variety of plants we have, although they are probably nothing to what he saw studying in Thailand! Everything in the house is already spick and span, and I plan to keep it that way – I'm going to look up more efficient cleaning spells in 'Practical Household Magic' in a moment. I'm meeting with Ginny tomorrow for lunch, so we can discuss (and moan about) our pregnancies – her due date is only three weeks after mine, but I am the one consulting her on everything – after all, she's already had James! He'll be turning two in December, and Harry's already got him riding a toy broom – he's brilliant, though he would be, with his blood. I do hope our children inherit Ron's talents on a broom and not mine – he'll be dreadfully disappointed otherwise._

_I'm starting to feel our baby move a little, but Ron cannot. Hopefully it will get more vigorous soon, uncomfortable as that might be for me: I feel like he is missing out._

_Ron has announced that we will be holding a housewarming party on my birthday, as a replacement for the birthday party I made him swear not to have for me. He is insisting on inviting everyone – Molly and Arthur, Harry and Ginny, Percy and Audrey, George and Angelina, Bill and Fleur, Mum and Dad, Neville and Hannah – he's just proposed! - and of course Teddy and Andromeda, as well as all the children. Molly has offered her help, which I am glad to accept, as well as Ginny and Fleur. I cannot wait to see Louis again – he's now six months old – and of course, Victoire and Dominique, who turned five and three this year. They are as beautiful as their mother._

_Well, I suppose I had better brush up on my cleaning spells now, and decide on some recipes for the party – oh and here's Ron. I'll finish off quickly by saying how relieved I am, and that I must be one of the happiest witches alive!_

* * *

'Hello, love,' said Ron, making his way through the apartment door as Hermione was writing her final lines.

'Hello,' said Hermione, continuing to write for a few seconds while Ron took off his jacket and made his way over to her. She closed the diary and stood up. She kissed him lightly and hugged him.

'I missed you, Ron,' she said quietly, looking into his eyes.

'I missed you too, Hermione.' Ron kissed her forehead and then moved his hands to her stomach. 'How's the little one? How are you? Tired?'

'Fine, I think. He or she's starting to move about a little more, hopefully you'll be able to feel it soon,' beamed Hermione. 'I'm fine, better than fine. Thank you for buying that house, Ron.'

'Well, it was perfect. Now we can look forward to seeing all our friends there in a few days time,' he winked. Hermione, slightly unwillingly, smiled and nodded. 'And to seeing our children grow up there. I can't believe how lucky we are. Everything could have been so different.' Ron looked pensive for a moment. It was not often he dwelt on the Wizarding War he and his wife had lived through, and even rarer that he brought it up with her. Though it had been the thing that had brought them together, the trauma they had both gone through within it was what they remembered. Everything after that was the beginning. Their wedding, Harry and Ginny's wedding, the birth of his brothers' and sister's children, the parties and happiness – those were the things they remembered and talked about. 'I'm glad, Hermione, that I have you, and that we will be safe for the rest of our lives.'

'I'm glad too, Ron.' They paused for a moment, enjoying the safety of their situation, and the security of their relationship.

'I think we should start to plan your party, and look at furniture. Here, I picked up a few magazines from some wizarding home furnishers.' He fetched the brochures from the jacket he had removed – 'Mr. Ampirical's Magically Carved Wood Furnishings', 'Mrs. Linkey's Soft Furnishings (Wand and Hand Made)', and 'Little Wizards' and Witchs' Little Rooms' were among the selection.

They sat down on the sofa, after Hermione had brewed a pot of tea and made marmalade toast. The wireless was on low, and the room was cosy and softly lit. Hermione pulled a crochet blanket, a joint effort on the parts of her mother and Ron's, over the two of them, and the expectant couple browsed happily through the magazines, selecting various items, and filling in the images of their future together that appeared in their minds.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi again everyone! This is a bit short, considering you've waited so long, but I hope you like it anyway:) Please read and review, and I'll talk to you a little more at the bottom. Happy reading!**

**Disclaimer: I still do not own Harry Potter, or any of these wonderful characters.**

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It was the middle of the night, and Hermione woke up with a jolt. The cats, which were sleeping on the end of their bed, stirred and opened their eyes sleepily. Hermione like having them there in winter, because they kept the end of the bed warm, despite the fact that they left their orange fluff all over her pale blue sheets. Ron remained soundly asleep. Hermione had been anticipating this moment for months. It was January, the month when she was due, and she knew what this was; she was going to have their baby.

'_Ron_,' she hissed, prodding him. For some reason – probably due to shock and her nerves – she couldn't raise her voice. 'Ow,' she clutched at her stomach, '_ooooh_.' Crookshanks made his way up the bed and nuzzled her arm, comfortingly. She prodded Ron again. 'Wake _up!_' He merely grunted. Luckily, Commodore seemed to have decided that they were playing some sort of game, and began to prowl up the bed, walking on Ron, before stopping on his chest and batting his face with a large, ginger paw.

'Huhphhff,' mumbled Ron, opening his eyes, very slowly. 'Gerroff me, Commodore!' He sat up grumpily, picking up the cat and setting him down on the bed. He looked at his wife, whose face was contorted in pain. 'Waz goin' on?' he asked, panicked, confused and clearly still drowsy.

'_Ahhh,_' groaned Hermione, in some discomfort. 'What does it look like, Ronald?' She replied, with more than a hint of annoyance. 'Our baby is coming – _ow_.' Ron sprang into action, and leapt up at such a speed that Commodore was tipped off the bed, meowing indignantly, as Ron wrenched the duvet up.

'Oops, sorry,' he said, almost tripping over the outraged cat as he hurriedly made his way around the bed. 'Are you all right, Hermione? Do you think it's going to come soon?' He sat down, and took her hand. Hermione shook and then nodded her head, seemingly unable to speak. Ron panicked a little more. 'Right, well then, urm…' he hesitated. Hermione, who realised Ron had completely forgotten what he needed to do, was forced to speak:

'Apparate to…the Burrow…get your mum...ahh…she'll get the doctor and midwife from St. Mungo's…and you come back here, doyouunderstandme?' Her final sentence came out faster than the others, as a contraction came on and she began to groan again. Ron wasted no time, but remembered to drag on his dressing gown and slam his feet into a pair of slippers, almost falling over more than once as he rushed around the room. He came back and kissed Hermione on the forehead before he left. 'I'll be back before you know it,' he whispered, 'I promise.' Her eyes look pleadingly at him. He knew she did not want to be alone. 'Crookshanks, look after her while I'm gone.' The large cat had not left Hermione's side, and blinked his yellow eyes slowly at Ron, who, if he had not known better, would have said he was raising his eyebrows. He turned and disapparated with a small 'pop'.

* * *

What seemed to be hours later, for Hermione at least, he returned. In reality, he had been gone minutes. That was the time it had taken to awaken Mrs Weasley – though he had appeared with a loud 'crack', right in his parents' room – and explain the situation. She had set off immediately, and told him that she expected that it would be about ten minutes before she, a midwife, and a specialist Healer arrived at The Willows. Ron had only stayed long enough for Mr Weasley to congratulate him, and had heard him disapparate seconds before him, heading off to notify one of his many other children that Ron's baby was on it's way. Ron hoped that he had gone straight to Ginny and Harry, he wanted them to know as soon as possible, but of course he couldn't go himself. He sat down on the bed and put his arm around his wife, who seemed very distressed and scared.

'Calm down, love,' he whispered soothingly. 'Mum will be here any minute; with everyone you need to help you. Just breathe deeply, okay?' He rubbed her shoulders gently, and Hermione relaxed a little, but was still groaning in pain.

'Where have you put your pain relief potion they gave you last month for this?' asked Ron, anxious that Hermione remained as comfortable as possible. She gestured towards her drawer. He rummaged for a while, before pulling it out triumphantly. Hermione practically snatched it and drank it as fast as she could. 'Right, that's a start,' said Ron. 'I'll just get the Draught of Peace I bought, too, so you relax a little, and that Invigoration Draught, so you don't feel too tired during, urm, labour.' Hermione nodded, calmed by the fact that Ron was taking charge, and had prepared for this moment. He pulled a tiny vial of turquoise blue potion, and a much larger one of a light yellow concoction that was bubbling, like lemonade. He measured a small dose of each into separate cups, and handed them to his wife, who drank them sedately. At that moment, three people apparated into the room, and all began talking at once. The Healer and midwife attended to Hermione, questioning her on what potions she had taken, and helping her up, so that Molly could spread large, thick, white towels, which had St Mungo's emblem stitched on them, across the bed. Ron stood out of the way, looking worried and fidgety. Molly came over to him and hugged him, smiling reassuringly. The Healer examined Hermione, and announced, in a surprised voice:

'Mrs Weasley! You're already at seven centimetres! You must have slept through a great deal of your labour,' Hermione looked surprised and pleased.

'I had taken a sleeping potion, I've been having trouble sleeping,' she trailed off.

'Well, it won't be too long before we have to deliver this baby. Are you feeling relaxed?'

'Yes,' said Hermione, who had calmed down a great deal, and looked full of energy. She was smiling. 'There is one thing I want,' she paused, 'Ron, come here and hold my hand, please?' Ron looked as if he was annoyed with himself for not thinking to do this before hand. Mrs Weasley pushed him gently towards the bed, before moving around to help the midwife. 'Ron, you were wonderful,' said Hermione.

'Not really,' said Ron, who obviously felt that he had failed.

'Yes, really, well, mostly. I can't believe you thought to buy those potions!'

'Well, I wanted everything to go as well as it could. I don't want you to be worried or in pain, or exhausted.'

'I love you, Ron.'

'Love you too, Hermione,' he replied, and the couple kissed gently.

* * *

A few hours, a lot of screaming and a few more doses of the soothing Draught of Peace later, Rose Weasley was born, screaming, red, and already loved. She was handed to Hermione, wrapped tightly in a soft, clean towel, who held her gingerly, as if she were the most precious and breakable thing on earth.

'She's beautiful,' she whispered, not daring to believe that she had a daughter.

'Perfect,' agreed Ron, who was crying. Hermione handed him the tiny baby after holding and fussing her for a while. She needed to shower and be cleaned up, but paused to look on with pride as her husband held their tiny daughter for the very first time. 'Hello, Rosie.' They had decided on a name about two months previously – Hugo for a boy, and Rose for a girl – but only after weeks of indecision and bickering. 'You might just be more beautiful than your mummy, you know.' He stroked her face, carefully and tenderly. 'I'm your daddy, Rose, and I am going to look after you, and love you, for the rest of my life. I love you so very, very much, my little petal.' He kissed her forehead gently, and looked up, embarrassed. He had been so absorbed in his first child that he had forgotten about the Healer, midwife, his mother, and even Hermione. All of them were smilingly broadly and softly, and his wife and mother had tears glistening on their cheeks.

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**So? I know I didn't write the labour in detail, but never having seen or experienced it, I wouldn't do it justice. I hope you enjoyed the sweet moment at the end - I really think Ron would act that way! He's a sweetie at heart, and a born father. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favourited or added this story to their alerts, it means an awful lot. I know I've jumped forwards four months, but I'm just sticking to their significant events at home, hopefully making them sweet and fluffy enough for you! I intend to go through their whole lives, so I would be here for an awfully long time if I went month by month ;)**

**Anyway, please review, it encourages me! But I do promise to not take so long to update from now on, I have many ideas for future chapters - but I'm always willing to include yours too, so feel free to request/suggest moments. Thanks again, much love, LBT(: x**


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